September 11, 2013

Suddenly Socks

After having no interest in knitting socks for over a year, the mojo is back. In the last two weeks I have finished a pair and a half and the fourth sock is in progress.

Pair # 1 is a) at home and b) inexplicably ugly, so no picture of them for you. I took a perfectly lovely ball of self-striping Liberty Wool and paired it with a coordinating solid in alternating 2-row stripes and the result was two meh socks that only bear a passing resemblance to each other. I am fine with "fraternal" pairs, but these two are distant cousins twice removed.

Ah well, we live and learn. I may give them to L to wear in her snow boots.

Pair #2 is pleasing me thus far.

This is Lang Jawoll Color Superwash yarn that has been marinating in my stash for who knows how long. Each 45g skein comes with a little spool of coordinating thread to fortify the heels and toes. I managed to remember it for the heel but forgot for the toe. I will try to make the second one to match.

M picked out the yarn because the socks are for her boyfriend's birthday. The sweater I made him for Christmas didn't doom their relationship, so I feel ok about making him socks.

He has a funky pair I knit years ago out of bits and pieces and never wore. He ran across them one day when M was searching for a scarf and became enamored with them. "Do you think your mom would let me have these?" You know I'm a sucker for any willing knitting recipient - M knew she didn't even have to ask. She says he loves them, so I'm hoping this new pair will be a hit.

I'm facing a conundrum at home. Hubby was out of town last weekend and while he was gone our ice started to taste funny. Kind of a cross between metal and lettuce. I think we can agree that neither of these flavors are a welcome addition to a cold beverage. I decided that the ancient ice maker in our ancient refrigerator had developed some rust on its inner mechanisms.

My solution was to pull the unit out and buy a bag of ice at the gas station. No muss, no fuss.

Until, of course, the hubby came home. Once he was finally persuaded that there was an actual problem with the ice maker, his solution was to disassemble the entire thing and clean/scrape/sand off any visible rust. Not a little job - it took him over 2 hours. Then he reinstalled it and declared the ice crisis was resolved.

Of course, the ice continues to taste like rusty lettuce and ruins any beverage I put it in. Thus far, he either hasn't noticed or he just won't admit it. After all the work he put in, it feels ungrateful to complain, but the bag of ice I purchased is nearly gone. Soon I will be forced to buy another bag.

Will he pretend not to notice? Or get all wounded and huffy that I won't use the ice from the ice maker? Experience tells me he will insist the ice is fine and that I'm being unreasonable.

Why do guys have to take everything so personally? I'm not demanding a new fridge. I'm not even asking to share the ice purchasing responsibility. All I want is a cold beverage that doesn't taste like iron shavings!